Dolly Dialogues

Anthony Hope

Description

In the character of Dolly Foster, British writer Anthony Hope has created an unforgettable embodiment of the turbulent end of the Victorian era. Constrained by old-fashioned conventions but bursting with newfangled ideas, this young woman is the element that ties together all of the vignettes and short tales collected in The Dolly Dialogues.

Sujets

• Short story

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 juillet 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776583515
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE DOLLY DIALOGUES
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ANTHONY HOPE
 
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The Dolly Dialogues First published in 1901 Epub ISBN 978-1-77658-351-5 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77658-352-2 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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A Liberal Education Cordial Relations Retribution The Perverseness of It A Matter of Duty My Last Chance The Little Wretch An Expensive Privilege A Very Dull Affair Strange, but True The Very Latest Thing An Uncounted Hour A Reminiscence A Very Fine Day The House Opposite A Quick Change A Slight Mistake The Other Lady What Might Have Been One Way In
A Liberal Education
*
"There's ingratitude for you!" Miss Dolly Foster exclaimed suddenly.
"Where!" I asked, rousing myself from meditation.
She pointed to a young man who had just passed where we sat. He wasdressed very smartly, and was walking with a lady attired in the heightof the fashion.
"I made that man," said Dolly, "and now he cuts me dead before the wholeof the Row! It's atrocious. Why, but for me, do you suppose he'd be atthis moment engaged to three thousand a year and—and the plainest girlin London?"
"Not that," I pleaded; "think of—"
"Well, very plain anyhow. I was quite ready to bow to him. I almostdid."
"In fact you did?"
"I didn't. I declare I didn't."
"Oh, well, you didn't then. It only looked like it."
"I met him," said Miss Dolly, "three years ago. At that time he was—oh,quite unpresentable. He was everything he shouldn't be. He was ateetotaler, you know, and he didn't smoke, and he was always going toconcerts. Oh, and he wore his hair long, and his trousers short, and hishat on the back of his head. And his umbrella—"
"Where did he wear that?"
"He carried that, Mr. Carter. Don't be silly! Carried it unrolled,you know, and generally a paper parcel in the other hand; and he hadspectacles too."
"He has certainly changed, outwardly at least.
"Yes, I know; well, I did that. I took him in hand, and I just taughthim, and now—!"
"Yes, I know that. But how did you teach him? Give him Saturday eveninglectures, or what?"
"Oh, every-evening lectures, and most-morning walks. And I taught him todance, and broke his wretched fiddle with my own hands!"
"What very arbitrary distinctions you draw!"
"I don't know that you mean. I do like a man to be smart, anyhow. Don'tyou, Mr. Carter? You're not so smart as you might be. Now, shall I takeyou in hand?" And she smiled upon me.
"Let's hear your method. What did you do to him?"
"To Phil Meadows? Oh, nothing. I just slipped in a remark here andthere, whenever he talked nonsense. I used to speak just at the righttime, you know."
"But how had your words such influence, Miss Foster?"
"Oh, well, you know, Mr. Carter, I made it a condition that he should dojust what I wanted in little things like that. Did he think I was goingto walk about with a man carrying a brown paper parcel—as if we hadbeen to the shop for a pound of tea?"
"Still, I don't see why he should alter all his—"
"Oh, you are stupid! Of course, he liked me, you know."
"Oh, did he? I see."
"You seem to think that very funny."
"Not that he did—but that, apparently, he doesn't."
"Well you got out of that rather neatly—for you. No, he doesn't now.You see, he misunderstood my motive. He thought—well, I do believe hethought I cared for him, you know. Of course I didn't."
"Not a bit?"
"Just as a friend—and a pupil, you know. And when he'd had his haircut and bought a frock coat (fancy he'd never had one!), he looked quitenice. He has nice eyes. Did you notice them."
"Lord, no!"
"Well, you're so unobservant."
"Oh, not always. I've observed that your—"
"Please don't! It's no use, is it?"
I looked very unhappy. There is an understanding that I am very unhappysince Miss Foster's engagement to the Earl of Mickleham was announced.
"What was I saying before—before you—you know—oh, about Phil Meadows,of course. I did like him very much, you know, or I shouldn't have takenall that trouble. Why, his own mother thanked me!"
"I have no more to say," said I.
"But she wrote me a horrid letter afterward."
"You're so very elliptical."
"So very what, Mr. Carter?"
"You leave so much out, I mean. After what?"
"Why, after I sent him away. Didn't I tell you? Oh, we had the mostawful scene. He raved, Mr. Carter. He called me the most horrid names,and—"
"Tore his hair?"
"It wasn't long enough to get hold of," she tittered. "But don't laugh.It was really dreadful. And so unjust! And then, next day, when Ithought it was comfortably over, you know, he came back, and—andapologized, and called himself the most awful names, and—well, that wasreally worse."
"What did the fellow complain of?" I asked in wondering tones.
"Oh, he said I'd destroyed his faith in women, you know, and that I'dled him on, and that I was—well, he was very rude indeed. And he wenton writing me letters like that for a whole year? It made me quiteuncomfortable."
"But he didn't go back to short trousers and a fiddle, did he?" I askedanxiously.
"Oh, no. But he forgot all he owed me, and he told me that his heart wasdead, and that he should never love any one again."
"But he's going to marry that girl."
"Oh, he doesn't care about her," said Miss Dolly reassuringly. "It's themoney, you know. He hadn't a farthing of his own. Now he'll be set upfor life."
"And it's all due to you!" said I admiringly.
"Well, it is, really."
"I don't call her such a bad-looking girl, though." (I hadn't seen herface.)
"Mr. Carter! She's hideous!"
I dropped that subject.
"And now," said Miss Dolly again, "he cuts me dead!"
"It is the height of ingratitude. Why, to love you was a liberaleducation!"
"Yes, wasn't it? How nicely you put that. A liberal education!' I shalltell Archie." (Archie is Lord Mickleham.)
"What, about Phil Meadows?"
"Goodness me, no, Mr. Carter. Just what you said, you know."
"But why not tell Mickleham about Phil Meadows?" I urged. "It's all toyour credit, you know."
"I know, but men are so foolish. You see, Archie thinks—"
"Of course he does."
"You might let me finish."
"Archie thinks you were never in love before."
"Yes, he does. Well, of course, I wasn't in love with Phil—"
"Not a little bit?"
"Oh, well—"
"Nor with any one else?"
Miss Dolly looked for an instant in my direction.
"Nor with any one else?" said I.
Miss Dolly looked straight in front of her.
"Nor with—" I began.
"Hullo, old chappie, where did you spring from?"
"Why, Archie!" cried Miss Dolly.
"Oh, how are you, Mickleham, old man? Take this seat; I'm just off—justoff. Yes, I was, upon my honor—got to meet a man at the club. Goodbye,Miss Foster. Jove! I'm late!"
And as I went I heard Miss Dolly say, "I thought you were never coming,Archie, dear!" Well, she didn't think he was coming just then. No moredid I.
Cordial Relations
*
The other day I paid a call on Miss Dolly Foster for the purpose ofpresenting to her my small offering on the occasion of her marriage toLord Mickleham. It was a pretty little bit of jewelry—a pearl heart,broken (rubies played the part of blood) and held together by a goldpin, set with diamonds, the whole surmounted by an earl's coronet. I hadtaken some trouble about it, and was grateful when Miss Dolly asked meto explain the symbolism.
"It is my heart," I observed. "The fracture is your making; the pin—"
Here Miss Dolly interrupted; to tell the truth I was not sorry, for Iwas fairly graveled for the meaning of the pin.
"What nonsense, Mr. Carter!" she said; "but it's awfully pretty. Thanksso very very much. Aren't relations funny people?"
"If you wish to change the subject, pray do," said I. "I'll changeanything except my affections."
"Look here," she pursued, holding out a bundle of letters. "Here are thecongratulatory epistles from relations. Shall I read you a few?"
"It will be a most agreeable mode of passing the time," said I.
"This is from Aunt Georgiana—she's a widow—lives at Cheltenham. 'Mydearest Dorothea—'"
"Who?"
"Dorothea's my name, Mr. Carter. It means the gift of heaven, you know."
"'My dearest Dorothea, I have heard the news of your engagement to LordMickleham with deep thankfulness. To obtain the love of an honest man isa great prize. I hope you will prove worthy of it. Marriage is a trialand an opportunity—'"
"Hear, hear!" said I. "A trial for the husband and—"
"Be quiet, Mr. Carter. 'A trial and an opportunity. It searches theheart and affords a sphere of usefulness which—' So she goes on, youknow. I don't see why I need be lectured just because I'm going to bemarried, do you, Mr. Carter?"
"Let's try another," said I. "Who's that on pink paper?"
"Oh, that's Georgy Vane. She's awful fun. 'Dear old Dolly,—So you'vebrought it off. Hearty congrats. I thought you were going to be sillyand throw away—' There's nothing else there, Mr. Carter. Look here.Listen to this. It's from Uncle William. He's a clergyman, you know. 'Mydear Niece,—I have heard with great gratification of your engagement.Your aunt and I unite in all good wishes. I recollect Lord Mickleham'sfather when I had a curacy near Worcester. He was a regular attendant atchurch and a supporter of all good works in the diocese. If only hisson takes after him (fancy Archie!) You have secured a prize. I hopeyou have a proper sense of the responsibilities you are undertaking.Marriage affords no small opportunities, it also entails certaintrials—'"
"Why, you're reading Aunt Georgiana again."
"Am I? No, it's Uncle Willia